Categories > Celebrities > Green Day > I Don't Wanna Fall In Love

I Don't Wanna Fall In Love

by One_Lame_Ass_Name 0 Reviews

I rated R to be safe. It will probably be PG-13-R. Overrall: Billie Joe has been avoiding the decision as long as possible, and Mike's sick of it. But as Billie Joe is choosing between the two lov...

Category: Green Day - Rating: R - Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance - Characters:  - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2006/12/31 - Updated: 2006/12/31 - 1258 words

Adrienne:
I hated her. She doesn't even care about him. She just wants his money. Fuck her. She's a gold-digging slut.

A few years ago, I wouldn't have cared who Mike was dating. He never picked well, though, except Anastacia, we all liked her. But Billie Joe would come home ranting about either "slut," or "crackwhore who liked him 'cause he always had good shit on him"(of course, since Estelle was born and Mike stopped using, that complaint hasn't been used) or "the skank saw him on TV" or whatever was wrong with that girlfriend. They were all overprotective of each other, though. Mike didn't think I was good enough to marry Billie Joe, but I guess he got over it by the time he was the best man at our wedding. Anyway, like I was saying, a few years ago, if I had met Brittany at a bar, I might have even introduced her to Mike, if he was single and looking, which he usually was. But he and I had become really close while they were recording American Idiot, as Billie Joe and I kept fighting, Mike and I kept getting closer. He's what probably really saved our marriage.

So now when I see Mike with that gold-digger whore, I get just as pissed off as Billie Joe does. I try to hide it, Mike knows that Billie Joe and Tré and I don't like her, but I still try to hide out. I'm more polite than Billie Joe and Tré are. At the Grammy's after-party we went to, Mike and Brittany started making out by the pool, and Billie went over to them and grabbed Mike and went on a ten minute rant about how she was a slut, a whore, and only with him for his money. The papparazi was going nuts about it, and she started crying, and he got mad at Billie, but not for long. Those two have never- in all their 25 years over friendship- been mad at each other for more than ten minutes.

"ADRIENNE!!!" Mike came running down the stairs and I swear if I had just heard him, I would have thought he was Jakob. They don't know they're 34, which is part of what makes them so much fun, "We're going out to do manly masculine things...."

Then Billie Joe was standing next to him, wearing a "Manliest Queen You'll Ever Meet" shirt, "Yup, shopping for clothes and makeup and getting our hair done."

Mike rolled his eyes, "You think you and Brit can manage not to murder each other?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Billie, don't get drunk. Then you'll be hung over tomorrow and we have to pick up Joey and Jake from my mom's."

Billie sighed, "I know!! It's not like I drink every time I go out- okay, yeah I do. But it's not like I drink constan- okay, yeah, I do. Okay, I won't get drunk." He grinned and Mike laughed at him, "Seeya later, babe, love you." He kissed me on the cheek and the two disappeared out the door, chasing each other in a mad race to see who would drive and who would sit in the passenger seat. I just rolled my eyes and laughed, sitting down on the couch as Brittany came downstairs. Oh joy.

Mike:
I shoved Billie Joe, setting him back at least a few steps and he tried to grab my ankle, but I was already in the drivers seat. I stuck my tounge out at him as he got up off the driveway and sulked into the passenger seat.

"You bitch." He pouted at me, both of us were big drivers.

"Awww, I'll make it up to you later, babe, I promise." I looked at him and winked as he tried not to smile at the promise. I felt a little bad, Adrienne trusted him so much, she trusted me, too. She didn't really care if Billie Joe had sex with me, but the only times she didn't care were if we were on tour, or drunk or something. This, she would care about. And Brittany would definately have a problem with it. She doesn't want me to have sex with anybody but her. Much less date anyone else....

He grabbed my hand as we pulled onto the interstate and all the doubts I had went away, he has the smoothest skin ever, and he doesn't even try. He doesn't use lotion or any of that shit, it's just smooth. I love his skin.

"You wanna skip the shopping? Go straight to the hotel?" He asked.

"Nah, I need pants." I sighed, "Babe, you ever feel bad about this? I mean, with Adrienne and all?"

He just sighed, and a few minutes later spoke, his voice was a little shakey, "Yeah. I love her. A lot. It's just... I love you, too. A lot."

Neither of us said anything for awhile, and I wound up driving us to my house. I don't really know why, I just sorta drove there. The silence continued as both of us got out of the car and walked into my house. I grabbed his hand as I unlocked, opened, walked into, and closed the door. We walked over the the couch and I sat down. Billie smiled at me and sat down on top of me, straddeling me a little.

"I love you, Billie Joe Armstrong." I leaned up to kiss him once, softly and sweetly.

"I love you, too, Micheal Ryan Pritchard." I laughed a little as he kissed me with the same sweet shortness I had just kissed him with. He's the only one who still called me by my real name. Tré calls me "Mikey Ryan Dirnt" when he's mad at me, it isn't very threatening. And Brittany calls me "Micheal Ryan Dirnt" when she's mad. Sometimes I think Billie's right that she doesn't remember my real last name isn't Dirnt.

He leaned down and pressed his perfect lips against mine and kissed me. I kissed him back, sliding my tounge across his lower lip to be met with his anxiously opened mouth. I slid my tounge into his mouth, his own strong tounge pressed against mine, and our tounges swirled together for a little while before I slightly pulled away. I really didn't want to do this.

"Babe, we gotta talk about this. I can't keep doing this. And I know how much it's hurting you."

He sighed, sitting up a little, then he rolled off of my lap and put his head against my shoulder. He sighed again, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

"Outside." I said, he looked at me like Tré had just opened up the top of my head, hopped out, closed it and did a little jig in my hair before popping back in, "Stella's here. She's sleeping upstairs."

He nodded and got up, I never smoke around Estelle. I did once when I brought her down to Disneyland about a year ago, we had been in the car a few hours so I needed one. But she hated the smell and I felt bad smoking around her. I followed him up the stairs and up to my room, then out to my balcony. He made me get a house with a balcony. When I asked him why he didn't buy this house instead of his, he looked at me like I had just asked the most obvious question in the world. His answer? He wanted a yellow house.
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